


On a Whim

by Officer_Jennie



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [23]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pre-Slash, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Officer_Jennie/pseuds/Officer_Jennie
Summary: “Why did you save me?”





	On a Whim

**Author's Note:**

> Short, but I thought it was good enough to post here as well ^^

The clattering of steel echoed in the cave. Slick with blood, his sword slid out of the body easy, the man left to choke out his last breaths. Nothing but night sound in the air when the enemy grew still, hair hissing against red armor as the wind met his back.

One other set of red eyes searched through the dark, looking for answers they would never find. Bated breath kept him quiet, wrists bound with haste, wire cutting to drip red down pale fingers. Even at a distance, he could tell the wire would break easy without his assistance.

Not that he should want to offer it to begin with.

He turned on his heels, goodwill and the bitter hands of fate having guided his sword but his stubborn mind unwilling to let it go any further.

Ragged breath, and a hoarse question stilled his movements.

“Why?” Red eyes met red, a nasty mistake on the Senju’s part - if it had been anyone else before him. If they hadn’t been alone, where no one could judge and find him guilty of reluctance and hesitation.

“Why did you save me?”

He couldn’t stop himself. One hand moved to the other, absently rubbing the palm of his right hand, the mark always hidden from the world and himself alike.

“A whim. Nothing more.”

Lies taste like mud and horse shit. But the dark hid his grimace, the sneer of his nose at his own foolishness, his own weakness.

The clank of metal plates was his only companion as he left the Senju behind, disappearing like shadow into the dense of the forest. No one would believe the white demon if he spoke word of their encounter (perhaps Hashirama might, the wistful fool that he was), and no one would bare witness to the longing in black eyes, the absent tracing of the mark long since seared into his heart and soul.


End file.
